As I wander into the comfort of slumber, I step through the mist, and as I pad the earth my paws are a blaze of orange fur. I tread silently on my path.
I am Fox. The edge walker, the adventurer of the liminal space. The timeless place. The betwixt and between.
The place where stars fade to the sunlight, where the sun surrenders to the moon, but where there is no dusk and no dawn.
The place where I listen with the eyes of my spirit and the ears of my soul, to the ancient ones who walked this land before me.
I listen to the whispers on the wind of trees, the place where wisdom echos like a hum on damp moss, or the edges of a bird’s wing dancing the there breeze. A place where I can hear